


What I Wanted to Say

by songofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, post 12x01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: Prompt: a reunion scene between Crowley and Dean for 12x01 since we didn't get one of those tonight?





	

“Dean, you need to rest.”

Dean looked up at Castiel briefly before his eyes returned to the computer screen where he was desperately scanning traffic cams for anything that could lead them to Sam.

“I’ll rest after we find Sam,” he muttered.

“Dean,” Castiel said more firmly. “I will go and search the area the call was made from. If I find where Sam is being kept, I will call you. But you will not be of use to him in your current state.”

Dean sighed. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to get any sleep.”

“Try. Sam would want you to.”

“Fine.” He pushed himself up, patting Castiel on the shoulder as he passed him. “Be safe out there. If you find him, don’t do anything until I get there.”

“I am capable of handling myself.”

He glanced back. “I know you are. But we don’t know what these people are capable of. Besides, I have a few things I want to say to this bitch.”

Castiel nodded. “Just get some rest.”

“I’ll do my best.” He walked down the hall to his room, stopping briefly to check in on his mom – she was sound asleep. Damn, that was going to take some getting used to.

Once he reached his room, he laid in bed for all of twenty minutes before deciding that sleep just wasn’t happening, and that Castiel was probably gone by now, so he couldn’t throw a hissy fit over it. He made his way back out to the library and resumed his seat in front of his laptop.

He continued the work of scanning the traffic cams. Occasionally, shapes would start to blur together in his tiredness, but he forced himself to focus. He was thinking about going to get a beer, when he heard a knock at the door. His eyes narrowed. Neither Castiel nor Sam would knock, so… who could it be? They weren’t exactly a stop for Jehovah’s Witnesses.

He grabbed his gun for safe measure and went to answer the door, pulling it open cautiously.

“Crowley?” His eyes grew wide in surprise as he saw who was on the doorstep, but not as wide as the demon’s eyes grew.

“Dean…” he breathed out as he looked him up and down as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I thought you were… aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Change of plans. What are you doing here?”

He blinked a couple of times, remembering himself. “Hoping to get some help. May I come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped aside so that he could enter, closing the door behind him. “You want a drink?”

“Do you have any of that not entirely dreadful stuff left?”

“Check the cabinet. I’ll be right back.” He moved as quickly as possible as he got a beer from the kitchen – realizing right after he left the room that leaving Crowley unattended in the bunker probably wasn’t a good idea.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he reentered the room, relieved to see that Crowley was sitting at the table with his drink. He took a seat across from him.

“I need to kill Lucifer before he regains power,” he explained without quite looking at Dean. “But I’m having difficulty finding him.”

“Well, not that that’s not a good cause, but-”

“There’s always a ‘but’ with you boys,” he muttered, glaring up at the ceiling.

“Hey, Sam’s been taken okay?” Dean snapped. “I have to get him back.”

“Which is why you’re up drinking at midnight, I assume?” He fixed him with a cool gaze.

“What’s your problem, Crowley?”

 _“Nothing.”_ He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“That why you’re acting like a five-year-old?”

“I’m just tired of you boys always expecting me to come to your aid and then never doing the same in return.”

Dean tilted his head acknowledgement as he set his beer down on the table. “Alright, but my brother’s in trouble, and you know I can’t just walk away from that. Maybe if you help me get him back, we can help you with Lucifer – but you didn’t even suggest that, which tells me that something else is going on here. You mad at me for something?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. But sure, you can be a pain in the ass, but normally you’re _reasonable_ about it. Come on, talk to me.”

He raised his eyebrows, fixing him with a glare. “Oh, _now_ you want to talk?”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “You know what? I think I’ll just go. Goodbye, Dean…. Not that I expect you to say bye to me.”

Dean’s jaw dropped open slightly as he stood up. _“That’s_ what this is about? Not saying bye to you?”

 “Of course not,” he snapped, spinning around to face him again. “Why would I care about you exchanging a sentimental farewell with everyone else there and then ignoring me completely?”

Dean huffed out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “What did you want me to say?”

 _“Anything!_ You could have said ‘fuck you’ for all I cared. After everything – you were about to _die_ – I deserved some kind of acknowledgement.” Raw emotion was burning in Crowley’s eyes – a combination of anger and sadness that was normally hidden behind layers of snark.

“Crowley…” Dean breathed, taking a step forward before stopping himself. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“Really? That’s your excuse? You could have just nodded in my general direction.”

He shook his head. “That wouldn’t have been good enough.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re right, you deserved a goodbye, but I didn’t know how to say what I wanted – especially in front of everybody.”

Crowley was silent for a moment before he started shouting. _“I don’t care!_ The goodbyes weren’t for _your_ benefit – you were supposed to be dead in a manner of minutes! The goodbyes were for those of us you were leaving behind! AND I HAD _NOTHING!”_

Dean clenched he jaw as he strode forward, grabbing Crowley by the lapels and pulling him into a kiss. For a moment, Crowley was frozen in shock, but then he seized hold of Dean’s hips and returned the kiss fervently.

“That’s what I wanted to say,” he breathed against Crowley’s lips as he pulled away a minute later.

Crowley’s wide eyes met his as his tongue darted out over his lips. “…oh.”

And then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Dean stiffened, his head slowly turning towards the entrance to the hallway, where his mother was standing, fixing him with an expectant look.

“I… I thought you were asleep.” He realized he still had hold of Crowley’s jacket and quickly dropped his hands, taking a step away.

“I heard shouting.” She glanced between the two of them pointedly, arms folded over her chest, clearly waiting for an introduction.

Crowley, meanwhile, looked confused. “Um… Dean? Who’s this?”

Dean took a deep breath. “Crowley, this is my mom. Mom, this is… Crowley.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, this just got awkward.”

“And Crowley is your…?” his mom fished and Dean’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Uh… I…”

“To be determined,” Crowley came to his aid. He walked forward, extending his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.”

The corners of Mary’s lips turned up slightly as she shook Crowley’s hand. “Well, he’s very polite,” she noted, glancing at Dean over Crowley’s shoulder.

Dean shot a glare at Crowley’s back. “Yeah… um… sometimes…. Look, Mom,” He walked forward, placing a hand on Crowley’s shoulder to pull him back a step. “This isn’t exactly easy to explain…”

“Then you don’t have to explain it. Not until you two know what’s going on.” She smiled at her uncomfortable son fondly before turning back to Crowley. “What do you do for a living, Crowley?”

Crap. Even Crowley looked mildly uncomfortable now as he shot a questioning glance at Dean. Dean nodded at the unspoken question. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep quiet the fact that Crowley was a demon for long. He shifted slightly so that he was angled in front of Crowley – just in case.

“Actually, I’m… well, I just had someone steal my job, but I’ll get it back soon enough. I’m a demon – normally, King of Hell.”

Mary’s eyes went wide as she looked over to Dean, who attempted an uncomfortable smile. “Yeah, like I said… complicated.”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t exorcise him right now?”

Dean thought quickly. “Because Lucifer is out there doing God knows what, and Crowley is one of the only people who can stop him. If you exorcise him, you’ll be handing him right over to him.”

“I’ve already been tormented by the devil’s hands enough,” Crowley added. “I would prefer it not happen again.”

“If you’re a demon, aren’t you supposed to be working for the devil?” she demanded.

“Technically…. But I’d prefer him dead, which is one of the reasons he doesn’t like me much.”

“Crowley’s helped us out a lot,” Dean went on. “Sam and I would probably both be dead if it weren’t for him.”

Crowley looked at him in mild surprise at the fact that he had actually admitted that.

Mary sighed. “Tell me that what I just walked in on wasn’t you closing a deal.”

“No, definitely not,” he quickly assured her. “Crowley and I just… well… things are…”

“Complicated,” she finished for him. “I get that. But he’s a demon.”

Dean opened his mouth, but Crowley beat him to it. “I assure you, I am not trying to harm your son in any way. I genuinely care about him, as much as it pains me to say it. Not that we haven’t had our fair share of differences, but… somehow he’s managed to become a rather comfortable thorn in my side.”

Dean ducked his head in a poor attempt to hide his grin. He had _thought_ that Crowley cared about him, but the demon would never actually come out and say it, and it was always so hard to be sure. It was good to hear.

He glanced up to see his mother’s eyes on him. He didn’t know if he really had been that bad at hiding his smile, or if what everyone always said about mothers knowing things was true, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that his reaction to Crowley’s words had not gone unnoticed.

“I see…” she mused, her attention returning to Crowley. “And you said you are the King of Hell?”

“Well… I will reclaim my throne once we get rid of Lucifer.”

“Alright, so presumably, you are one of the most powerful demons out there, and you have a soft spot for my son?”

He shrugged. “It is a bit embarrassing. I try not to advertise it.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Did you know that I grew up in a family of hunters?”

“I am well aware. It must be where your sons get all their natural gifts.” He grinned charmingly.

“Well, my family’s stories were passed down to me, and I gained a few of my own, and I have never heard of a demon with the capacity to care about anyone but themself.”

His smile faded, a defensive edge coming into his eyes. “No offense to your family, but hunters are not known for taking the time to ask about demons’ personal lives. And even without taking that into account, it is extremely rare and frowned upon. As I said, I do my best not to advertise my feelings for Dean.”

“Mom,” Dean cut in. “I trust Crowley. And I don’t trust demons, so that’s saying something.”

She sighed as she turned back to her son. “You really do, don’t you?”

“Like he said, we’ve had our differences, but… lately, he’s been on our side more often than not. He’s not like most demons.”

She gave him a small smile. “Then I trust your judgement.”

He returned her smile. “Thanks.”

She glanced between the two of them. “I suppose I should let you get back to what you were doing.”

Dean turned pink as she turned back into the hallway to return to her room.

“So… when did she come back to life?” Crowley pointed down the hall as he turned to Dean with raised eyebrows.

“Amara brought her back.”

“Amara? What exactly happened when you went to blow her up?”

“Ended up doing some family counseling, instead,” Dean explained as he wandered back over to the table to pick up his beer and take a drink. “She healed Chuck, and they ran off for some family bonding. And she decided to bring my mom back as a thank you.”

“How considerate.” He walked over to stand in front of Dean, placing his hands on the table on either side of him. “Now, about that kiss.”

Dean sighed, looking at a spot over the top of Crowley’s head. “Nothing short of that seemed like a good enough goodbye, but I couldn’t exactly do that in front of Sam without spurring a hundred questions that we really didn’t have the time for.”

“I understand that, but I still wish you had at least acknowledged me.”

He finally looked down to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.” His hands moved from the table to Dean’s waist, running slowly over his sides. “You look tired. You should probably get some sleep.”

“Why is everyone so concerned about me getting sleep?” he muttered irritably. “I can’t sleep. I tried.”

“Then let me help you relax.”

Some time later, Dean was asleep on Crowley’s chest, a leg and arm draped over the demon carelessly. Crowley’s arm was wrapped around him, his hand running softly over his back. He had always slept best after sex, and so after making Crowley promise to stay with him, he was out like a light. Castiel was right, he would be of no use to Sam while he was dead on his feet, and thanks to Crowley, he was able to have this moment of peace.


End file.
